Havala panted as Ele began splinting her arm, the pain was subsiding but still throbbing. “Where did you learn to do that?” Havala asked, trying to distract herself from the pain.
Ele kept her eyes on Havala’s arm as she wrapped the cloth around the branch she had made, “What do you mean?” she said softly.
Havala stifled a grunt, “The healing, I noticed your mark but….I always thought wyverns were warriors, not healers.”
She yelped as Ele tightened the wrap and began tying it. “Have you ever met a wyvern?” Ele’s soft voice harder than usual.
Havala’s face reddened. “Well, no….”
“Well you are right,” Ele muttered, releasing Havala’s arm. “Wyverns are not well read, or trained to heal, they are trained to be warriors.” Ele swallowed, her pupils thin with anger. “But warriors make war, and that destroyed Avondale. A healer can cure illnesses and heal wounds.” Ele’s grey eyes met Havala’s blue ones, “That is what Avondale needs now.”